Trigun: Way Too Far Behind the Scenes
by Lunatic Jedi
Summary: Bizarre and disturbing interviews with the cast of Trigun! Rated PG-13 for occasional swearing and assorted odd happenings.
1. Legato's Interview: First Attempt

Alright, standard legal stuff so I don't get sued. _  
  
I don't own Trigun. I will never own Trigun. Ever. Despite my best efforts, the rights to Trigun will forever elude me. THERE! That's my little moment of self-deprecation. Happy now? I thought so. Well then, on with the madness!  
  
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Trigun: Way Too Far Behind the Scenes  
  
Yes, this is Trigun behind the scenes. Way behind the scenes. Probably too far behind the scenes for your own good. Consider yourself warned.  
  
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First thing's first: We had to interview Legato. We hoped this would be one of the easier interviews. He was pretty mellow by comparison, though not without his odd little quirks. Okay, odd BIG quirks. We found that we were actually quite mistaken. His interview took two attempts. The first attempt… well… it shouldn't even really count as an interview, but here it is anyway.  
  
Legato's Interview: First Attempt  
  
We found Legato's dressing room easily enough. It was located appropriately between Dominique's and E.G. Mine's dressing rooms. We knocked, and at first there was no response. We knocked again, and I heard some faint stirring. Pressing my ear against the door, I could hear muffled giggling, or something like that. I couldn't quite tell if it was giggling or screaming. With a quick nod to Logan, the cameraman, I opened the door and took a bold step through it, prepared to be the hero if need be. The collective population of the room froze. Legato, from what I could tell, had been prancing around, giggling giddily, in nothing but a pair of sky-blue boxer shorts with Knives's face printed all over them, while simultaneously waving a hotdog about in his right hand and trying to force his entire left hand into his mouth. There was a long, extremely uncomfortable silence as Legato was stopped in mid-prance to stare at us. We responded in kind, by staring, rather wide-eyed, at him. Words weren't necessary. Everything was said with our eyes. I turned on my heel and left, closing the door behind me. Logan scuffled after, blinking rather rapidly, still struggling to register what just happened.  
  
"We'll come back," I muttered as we walked briskly down the hall. He jogged up alongside me.  
  
"Uh… dude… what just hap…" he began.  
  
"We'll… come… back," I repeated, interrupting him rather forcefully.  
  
Indeed, it seemed we had our work cut out for us. 


	2. Legato's Interview: Second Attempt

Eh... I didn't mean for that chapter to be yaoi-ish. I meant for it to be weird. I'm weird, Legato's weird, the whole fanfic is weird! GAH HA HA HA HA!  
  
_  
  
  
  
Stop looking at me like that.  
  
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Trigun: Way Too Far Behind the Scenes  
  
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As disturbed as we were by that first incident, our itinerary ordered that we interview Legato. So about a day later, we worked up our courage and decided to go through with it.  
  
Legato's Interview: Second Attempt  
  
Logan and I were predictably uneasy at the thought of what we might see on the other side of that door. I pressed my ear to the door again and listened for any kind of psychotic giggling, thankfully, I didn't hear anything particularly out of the ordinary. I knocked once on the door, and was met with an unexpectedly mellow "Come in" from the other side. Logan and I exchanged nervous glances and nods, I summoned every ounce of manly courage I had (this isn't to say that I have a great deal of that _) and cracked the door open. Logan quickly raised the camera to his eye and hit record. I noticed that he wasn't actually looking through the eyepiece. Both of his eyes were closed. Frankly, I couldn't blame him. I was relieved to find Mr. Bluesummers sitting quietly at the appropriately-sized table on the right side of the room, enjoying a... hot dog.   
  
"Ok," I assured my self mentally. "Just because he was waving a hot dog around before doesn't mean he's going to do anything odd now... I hope."  
  
With a tiny beckoning gesture to Logan, I pulled up a chair and sat down opposite Legato. Logan stood between the two of us, the camera trained on Legato.  
  
"Ahem... hello there Mr. Bluesummers."  
  
"Good morning," he replied with uncharacteristic cheer, scarcely bothering to look up from the hot dog. "What can I do for you?"  
  
I couldn't help but be a little bit put off by his sudden change of demeanor. Finally, I managed to speak again.  
  
"Ah, yes. You see, we're here from General Idiocy Publications, and we've been sent to interview the cast of Trigun. We'd just like to ask you a few questions."   
  
"Ask away." I arched an eyebrow as he popped a tiny smile that was both friendly, and horribly twisted.  
  
"Alright then. Um..." I flipped through my list of questions, looking for a good icebreaker. "Ah. Here we go. Why are your eyes that color? I mean, I've seen people with hazel eyes, but yours are bright yellow. That seems rather... unique."  
  
"I wear colored contacts."  
  
"Ah, so what color are your real eyes?"  
  
"... Yellow."  
  
"Wait... so you... but... alright, moving swiftly on, is that really Vash the Stampede's arm on your body?" I decided not to make any mention of the fact that he seemed to be trying to fit that specific arm into his mouth the other day.  
  
"Indeed. My master gave it to me so that I could control Vash's Angel Arm. Observe." Grinning broadly, he narrowed his eyes and flexed the fingers of his left hand. We all heard a few screams and explosions somewhere in the building. Logan's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as he glanced frantically about the room, expecting some wave of devastation to vaporize him where he stood. I dove under the table, whimpering and cursing. After a few seconds of this, we realized that we hadn't actually been burned into trace-elements. Logan's shoulders drooped visibly, and I poked my head just above the edge of the table to find Legato snickering with that same tiny, twisted smile. Slowly (oh-so-slowly) regaining my composure, I turned the chair right-side-up and sat down, trying to hide my uncontrollable shivering and the extremely violent twitch in my right eye. Before I could even say another word, the door was thrown open, loudly impacting the adjacent wall. Vash the Stampeded stood framed in the doorway, his shoulders so tensely raised that his neck disappeared. He was panting loudly and scowling rather hatefully at the smirking Legato.   
  
"You..." hissed the red-coated figure.  
  
"Well, we'll just..." Before I could even come close to finishing my sentence, Vash dove across the room, roaring his anger, landing on the table and grabbing Legato by the collar. Logan was forced to quickly sidestep to avoid the hurtling outlaw. I was shocked enough to tip the chair so far that I fell over backwards. I scrambled up against the wall and staggered to my feet, then made a beeline for the door. Logan followed in kind. We quickly slammed the door behind us and put all our weight onto it to ensure that it wouldn't open again. Breathing heavily, we exchanged horrified glances.   
  
"Should we go ba..." Logan began. I knew the answer before he even finished.  
  
"No. We should run. Fast."   
  
We sprinted off down the hallway in unison. We knew perfectly well that we hadn't completely managed to finish the interview, but we both agreed we'd discovered more than enough about Legato Bluesummers. Safely outside the compound, we stopped, panting and doubled over.   
  
"Crazy bastard," Logan muttered breathlessly.  
  
I nodded in silent agreement. Flipping across my clipboard, I located the next subject on our list.  
  
"Alright then. Next up: Dominique the Cyclops."  
  
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Ahh... good times.   
  
Trust me, it'll only get weirder from here. 


	3. Dominique's Interview

Ah... and the madness machine just keeps chugging. Scared yet? You should be.  
  
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Trigun: Way Too Far Behind the Scenes  
  
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"Here it is," I affirmed with a small gesture to the star-shaped nameplate on the door. "Dominique the Cyclops's dressing room." Logan nodded with disinterest, his eyes drifting elsewhere.  
  
"Focus!" I barked, snapping him back to attention. He grunted as he grudgingly turned on the camera. His eyelids drooped sleepily.  
  
"Uh... are you okay?" I questioned, taking notice of the sagging rings beneath his eyes.  
  
"Not really," he slurred drowsily. "I haven't been sleeping well ever since our first attempt at interviewing Legato... you know... the thing with the hot dog and the boxer shorts and the hand in the mouth and... agh, it haunts my dreams! I can still see it when I close my eyes!" I replied to his agonized ranting by arching and unsympathetic eyebrow.  
  
"Don't worry," I assured him. "This interview will probably give you all-new nightmares! Plus, this ones a girl!" I added with a suggestive wink. He blinked twice at me, scowling slightly.  
  
"I'm too tired to even think about that."  
  
"Well, you might just reconsider." With that, I knocked twice on the door. There was a distinct "Come on in." I obeyed, setting the door ajar and peering into the room. It seemed to be desserted. There was no sign of anyone there.  
  
"Um... Dominique? Are you here? I don't see..."  
  
And then she appeared out of thin air six inches from my face.  
  
"OH SWEET MOTHER OF CRAP!" In shock and horror, I staggered backwards into Logan, sending him sprawling to the floor. Flailing desperately to regain my balance, I tripped over his outstretched right arm. I toppled back into the hall, landing with a thud that I'm sure was clearly audible throughout the studio. Dominique scoffed quietly and smirked. I managed to get a good look at her. She was tall, at least six feet. Her hair went down a bit below her shoulders and was a shade of deceptively serene lavender. A wide-brimmed tan hat adorned her head. She wore a tan trenchcoat with slacks and a tasteful dress shirt underneath. I also noticed that she wore a steel eyepatch over her right eye. And if I do say so myself, she was actually quite pretty. I noticed that Logan perked up visibly at the sight of her. Obviously he was seeing exactly what I was.  
  
Logan heaved sluggishly to his feet, never taking his eyes off Dominique, while I quickly scrambled back up.   
  
And then she disappeared again.  
  
My eyes darted to each end of the room, trying to see her, and then I spotted her, sitting in plain sight, right at the table.  
  
"How does she do that?" Logan asked, astonished.  
  
"Your guess is as good as mine," I answered, seating myself on the opposite end of the table.  
  
"Well, Ms... um... what's your..."  
  
"Dominique. Just Dominique," she interrupted.  
  
"Alright then. I'm Sam, and that's Logan. We're here from General Idiocy Publications, and we're here to interview the cast of Trigun. We'd just like to ask you a few questions.  
  
"If you insist," she said with a tiny, surprisingly genuine laugh.  
  
"Okay. How do you do that crazy teleporting... thing that you do?"  
  
"I'm glad that you asked that. You see this eyepatch here? Well do you know what's under the eyepatch?" I shook my head. With a smirk, she pressed a tiny button on the eyepatch, and the two interlocking metallic panels slid apart, revealing her right eye, which was bright red.   
  
"This is my Demon's Eye. Knives had it surgically put in. Its an implant that emits a extremely low-frequency signal that slows brainwaves and reaction time. I'm not teleporting. I just appear to be moving so quickly that you don't see me. In fact, I'm moving at quite normal speed. This is also how I got the nickname "Cyclops." She casually closed the eyepatch again.  
  
"I see. Now..."   
  
"I've got a question of my own," Logan suddenly interrupted. "Do you have a boyfriend?" I whirled in surprise at hearing this.   
  
"The things that lack of sleep will do to people," I thought to myself.  
  
Dominique sighed and lowered her eyes, blushing visibly. "Well... technically no... but..." she turned and gazed longingly at a photograph of Legato on her dresser. I noticed a few lipstick smudges on it that bore a suspicious resemblance to Dominique's own color of lipstick. Logan blinked twice and suddenly freaked.  
  
"What?! How could you possibly like that freakshow?! He's friggin' nuts! What about ME?! I'm strong and handsome and very manly!" Apparently the sleeplessness was affecting his judgement as well as his inhibitions. He seemed perfectly able to tell a barefaced lie. What's more, I think he actually thought he was telling the truth.   
  
Dominique didn't seem to hear any of this. She just continued to muse over her cobalt-haired crush. "He's just so strong and mellow and... cute!" At this point, Logan started foaming at the mouth, so I took it unto myself to confiscate his camera and record the rest of the interview myself. Not that there was much, since I had to drag Logan off kicking and screaming to avoid an incident... er... more of an incident. The term "restraining-order" suddenly came to mind.  
  
Safely outside the studio, Logan starte bawling.  
  
"What is she thinking?!" he cried. "What could she possibly see in him and not me?!" Needless to say, I refrained from answering that question. Instead I thumbed the pages on my clipboard and found our next interview.  
  
"Ah. Here we go. Meryl Stryfe."  
  
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And if you're wondering, yes, Logan is based off a friend of mine by the same name. I made him the cameraman because he and I often worked together on short films in video class. I'll never forget the Matrix thing with the slow-motion and the punching and the stuff and... never mind. _  
  
More to come so don't touch that dial... er... back button. 


	4. Meryl's Interview

Hello, my scores of loyal fans and readers!  
  
*Crickets chirp*  
  
Ah hell... _  
  
Anyway, sorry for not updating in so long. Its that blasted W32.Blaster.Worm thing. I've had to kill it 3 times now, and I think I got it for good this time, since I tightened up my firewall. *Huggles his firewall*  
  
So I'm back now! REJOICE!  
  
*Crickets chirp*  
  
Hmph.  
  
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Trigun: Way Too Far Behind the Scenes  
  
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I wore a small, confident smile. I had a good feeling about this interview, since according to her preliminary bio, Meryl Stryfe was just a normal person. An average, every-day woman who works for an insurance company. Then I noticed a bit in the notes that I had failed to notice beforehand.  
  
"Carries approximately 30 Derringers under her coat and is deadly accurate with them." I gulped audibly, but said nothing to Logan, expecting that he'd turn tail and run immediately. Our lack of success in the interviews was wearing down his enthusiasm, and his sanity. He appeared to have developed a small nervous twitch in his right eye. With any luck, this would be the turning point in our little doomed mission.  
  
I knocked twice, and thought I heard some whispering before Meryl yelled "Come in!" a moment later. Opening the door with uncharacteristic confidence, I stepped in and smiled warmly.   
  
"Hello, Ms. Stryfe," I began, giving her the usual introduction. "I'm Sam, and this is my associate, Logan. We're here from General Idiocy publications, and we've been sent to interview the characters of Trigun."  
  
"Hmm..." Meryl mused, eyeing Logan rather suspiciously. "You know, yesterday Dominique said something about some cameraman sneaking into her dressing room and stealing one of her bras." My head turned like a machine, slowly and methodically, toward Logan, who chuckled uneasily and shifted his eye behind the lens.  
  
"Ahem... Logan... we're gonna have to talk about that..." I hissed through clenched teeth. Meryl raised her left eyebrow. Clutching the back of my neck, I laughed half-heartedly and turned back to Meryl.  
  
"Alright then, moving swiftly on... do you really keep 30 Derringers under your coat?" I heard a tiny squeak from Logan, but kept my eyes on Meryl.  
  
"Well, yeah. After all, each one only fires once."  
  
"What do you do with the spent ones?"  
  
"I just reload them. What did you think, I buy new ones?"  
  
"Um... I have no idea what I think," I admitted with a smile, displaying my mastery of the disturbing non-sequitur. "Anyway, how good are you with them?"  
  
"Uh... I wouldn't exactly toot my own horn, but I'd say I'm pretty good. Maybe not on Vash's or Knives' level, but close."  
  
"Alright then. I'm now making a mental note to never make you angry." Meryl let slip a tiny smirk as she raised her left eyebrow.  
  
"Okay, moving on to other matters," I lead, flipping through my notes. "I don't know if I should pry, but the rumor mill has been working overtime, and... well... I've heard that you and Vash the Stampede are... well... involved... romantically." I paled as I saw Meryl's features tighten considerably, and a vein in her forehead began to pulsate rather disturbingly.  
  
"What?!" she snapped loudly. "I don't know who told you that but its a complete lie! I would never be 'involved' with Vash the Stampede if he were the last man on Earth! He's a complete idiot!" I managed to eke out a bit of regretful thought at having brought it up in the first place, when I heard a muffled yelp of "Huh?!" eminating from the closet. My jaw dropped considerably as Vash the Stampede stumbled out of the closet, wearing a rather hurt expression. It took both Logan and I a moment to realize that he was... very scantily clad... wearing nothing more than a pair of bearskin underwear. I shook slightly as I held back a violent retch. Logan didn't even bother covering it up. He whirled around, steadying himself against the wall, and began yelling with a great deal of vulgarity.  
  
"Holy crap!" he yelled. "You mean we WALKED IN on... th... THAT?!" he gestured wildly at the confused and obviously very cold Vash. "GAH! THE MADNESS! I FEEL ALL DIRTY! GRAAAHH!"   
  
At this point Logan started stomping about the room, flailing erratically, ranting, and cursing.  
  
"Uh... we're gonna go now," I said with a polite smile before I dragged Logan, still babbling, out the door by the back of his collar. Before I closed it, I heard Vash.  
  
"What do you mean 'I would never be involved with him if he were the last man on Earth?'" Then Meryl spoke, making an effort to sound furtive.  
  
"I was just saying that to cover it up! You know you're my little shweetie lumpkins."  
  
"Oh my god," I hissed as I stomped off down the hall. I turned to Logan, who was now dragging limply behind me, flailing and mumbling weakly.  
  
"You know, we did manage to ask most of our questions, so I would consider this interview a mission accomplished!"  
  
"Graaaaaahhh," was his only reply.  
  
Deciding to let him burn out his own madness, I flipped across the clipboard and found our next interview.   
  
"Alright then. Next up: Zazie the Beast."  
  
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Come on, you all knew what Vash and Meryl do behind closed doors. I can't really blame Logan.  
  
Logan: BEARSKIN UNDERWEAR!  
  
Yes, we know.  
  
Stay tuned! ^_^ 


	5. Zazie's Interview

Sorry I haven't updated in a couple days. I'm just... well... a jerk. ^_^  
  
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Trigun: Way Too Far Behind the Scenes  
  
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I had to sort of drag Logan down the hall. This was the last thing he wanted right now. He was teetering on the edge of madness, and I prayed that this would be the interview that yanked him away from the cliff.  
  
I stopped at the door to Dominique's dressing room as we passed it, and glanced at Logan. He too was eyeing the door, as if he were remembering something. I glared at him, and lunged at his left pocket. After some struggle, I scowled in disgust as I found Dominique the Cyclops' lacy lavender bra tucked rather securely into his jeans. He winced as I knocked twice on Dominique's door, smirking. I snickered, gesturing at Logan as I handed the undergarment to Dominique.  
  
"He promises he'll never do it again," I assured her sardonically. Dominique glanced at Logan and scoffed as she close the door. I could have sworn she smiled at him, but it could have all been in my twisted imagination. I grinned fiendishly at Logan, who was blushing rather violently, and continued down the hall. Zazie's room was four more rooms down. As usual, I knocked twice on the door.  
  
"Come in."  
  
Opening the door, I saw Zazie watching the small television, which he had tuned to the camera overlooking the set. There seemed to be some filming in progress. On the monitor, I could distinctly tell that Wolfwood appeared to have Vash in some kind of painful submission move. Glancing at Zazie, I found that he was rather small. Childlike, even. In fact, he most certainly was a child. He couldn't have been more than nine years old.  
  
"Hello there, Mr... uh... Beast. My associate and I are here from General Idiocy Publications, and we've been sent to interview the cast of Trigun." I couldn't help but find myself tiring of that introduction. "So, we'd just like to ask you a few questions."  
  
"Yeah, alright," he said with evident annoyance.  
  
"Let's see here... it says your real name is Bede..."  
  
"No!" he suddenly snapped. It was now that I became aware of the fact that his voice was a few octaves lower than it should have been for someone his age. "Bede is just this body that I use. I am, and always will be, Zazie the Beast."  
  
"Umm... alright then." I flipped through my notes in a desperate attempt to change the subject. "I've heard that you can control sandworms using a high-frequency transmitter. Is that it right there?" I pointed to a small, green, tubular object affixed to Zazie's left temple.  
  
"Yes, that's it. In fact, if I wanted to, I could order a sandworm to burrow through the foundation of this building and swallow up both you and your cameraman in a single gulp, shredding the two of you into bloody pulp with its razor-sharp teeth. Would you like me to demonstrate?" he asked with a devilish grin.  
  
"Uh... no... that's quite alright." Whether or not it was true, I didn't want to try my luck at something like that. I kept scanning his preliminary bio for something that didn't involve being shredded into a bloody pulp by a roaring worm-beast. "Uh... are you good with firearms?" I expected a resounding no. After all, he was just a kid.  
  
"I'd say I'm pretty good." I blinked twice in surprise as he lifted his hands from his sides, revealing a pair of holsters, each housing a high-caliber revolver. He drew them and whirled them about in his hands.   
  
"Ah... well... you must be pretty strong for your size," I observed, supposing that a child... er... demon... demon-child of that size would need rather impressive strength to be so adept with pistols that heavy. Suddenly Zazie sneered viciously, appearing rather upset.  
  
"My... size?" he hissed. "What are you saying about my... size?"   
  
"Uh... nothing. Its just that... uh... well... you're kinda... I dunno. Small?"  
  
Zazie snapped.  
  
"OH NO! NO NO NO! You do NOT call Zazie the Beast small! Zazie the Beast is not small, because Zazie the Beast has unlimited control over every sandworm within hundreds of iles! You call THAT small?"  
  
"Uh... no. I was just saying..."  
  
"You wanted to know how good I was with firearms..." Zazie said with an ever-widening smirk. "Why don't you find out first-hand?" My eyes bulged as he drew both his pistols and aimed one at my head, and one at Logan's.  
  
"We're gonna be going now," I said abruptly, and dashed for the door. A gunshot boomed and I heard a bullet whistle past my ear, splintering a sizeable chunk of the door. I flinged the door open and bounded down the hall, Logan close behind, screaming and cursing, but surely not as much as me. Zazie stepped into the hall.   
  
"I DON'T MISS TWICE!" he shouted, raising his weapons. Thankfully, he did miss twice, and a third time, and several more times as gunfire echoed through the hall and bullets ricocheted off the walls near us. As we passed Legato's dressing room, he poked his head out and frowned at a rather mortified Zazie.  
  
"Excuse me," he said with obvious irritation. "We're trying to enjoy a bit of private time." He gestured to the hotdog in his hand, and slammed the door shut, grumbling. Defeated, Zazie gave us one last nasty look before turning on his heel and returning to his room. As usual, Logan and I considered ourselves safest once we were safely in the parking lot. We were silent for a few moments, still getting over the shock.  
  
"That was fun," I said with a grin. Logan just arched an eyebrow at me and scowled.  
  
Once again, I flipped across the clipboard, and was relieved to find our next interview.  
  
"Here we go. Next up: Millie Thompson."  
  
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Oh... small child with grown-up voice... not normal... kinda scary. _  
  
Stay tuned! ^_^ 


	6. Millie's Interview

Sorry I haven't updated in so long. Just remember:  
  
Me = ALMIGHTY JERK  
  
I'll try to update more often. No, really! I mean it! STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!   
  
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Trigun: Way Too Far Behind the Scenes  
  
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"Don't worry. She's a completely normal girl." I rattled off Millie Thompson's good points to Logan in an attempt to keep him stable just for the duration of the interview. "And according to her preliminary bio, she's kinda ditzy, so you have nothing to worry about. Trust me." Logan glanced blankly at me. He didn't seem terribly convinced.   
  
"What about her gun?" he asked tersely. I should have known that he would bring up something like that.  
  
"Ah! I'm glad you asked! Its not even lethal! I've got a picture of it right here, too." I held the clipboard up to his face, and he paled visibly at the sight of the 6-barreled Stungun.  
  
"THAT'S non-lethal?!" he yelled in disbelief. "That thing looks like it could deforest a small country in about ten minutes!"  
  
"Well, its called the DX-10 Gerrington Stun Gun. STUN gun. Its not called the Brutally Destructive Kill Gun or something. See? Nothing to worry about."  
  
"If you say so," he mumbled, once again not seeming the slightest bit convinced. We found Millie's dressing room three doors from the end. I knocked twice.  
  
"Coming!" she chirped with a distinct cheereful tone in her voice. Footsteps padded closer. I straightened up as the door began to open, preparing to give the standard intro.  
  
She was nearly seven feet tall.  
  
I blinked twice and had to look up to see her face. She looked down at my comparatively diminutive figure with a warm, welcoming smile.   
  
"Hello there!" she said happily.   
  
"Oh... uh... hello," I stammered, blinking rapidly. "I'm Sam, and this is my ass... ass... uh... my ass," I struggled, too shocked to pronounce "associate."  
  
"This is your ass?" she giggled.  
  
"No! No... this is my ASSOCIATE, Logan." I glanced back at Logan. He had plastered on a smile, but his eyes simply screamed "OH GOD I'M GONNA DIE!" Without moving a single other part of his body, and not even blinking, he brought his hand up in a terse wave, and put it right back down again.  
  
"Isn't he the one who stole Dominique's underwear?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Um... yes. We're here to interview the characters of Trigun," I quickly changed the subject.  
  
"Oh! Well, come in and sit down." I sat down at the table and she sat opposite me. As usual, Logan just stood to the side with the camera. I noticed that he was shaking very slightly.  
  
"Alright, ask away!" she said with a broad, genuine grin.  
  
"Okay... uh... so you and Meryl work together tailing Vash and reducing the damage he causes, right?"  
  
"Yup!"  
  
"What is it like constantly traveling with a walking disaster?"  
  
"Don't talk about Meryl like that!" she frowned at me, glancing at her Stun Gun, which was sitting on the couch.  
  
"No no! I mean Vash!" I yelped, throwing up my hands in defense.  
  
"Oh!" To my relief, she smiled. "Well, it was a little scary. After all, trouble's always following him. But it was also a lot of fun now that I look back on it." Suddenly she shifted her eyes and leaned in closer to me. "Now, you didn't hear this from me, but I think that after so much time traveling with Vash, Meryl fell in love with him! Don't tell anyone!" I nodded and tried to look surprised. Logan just snickered.  
  
"What's so funny?" she asked, glancing at Logan.  
  
"Uh... nothing," I said quickly. "Anyway, about that gun of yours... is it really non-lethal?"  
  
"Sure! I'd never walk around with a deadly weapon!"  
  
"Hmmm... but it does look kinda big... and powerful."  
  
"That's just because it fires such large ammunition."  
  
"Really? What does it fire?"  
  
"DX-10 Gerrington Quad-Pod rounds. These things." She held up a large, elongated object that looked more like a small grenade then a bullet. "They fold out into big Xs that knock down and stun the target. They don't do any lasting damage, except maybe a bruise. In fact, some people find it fun."  
  
She got up and walked over to the couch. She picked up the gun, which must have weiged at least fourty pounds, effortlessly.   
  
"Here. I'll show you." She took aim at Logan. My eyes widened.  
  
"OH GOD NO!" Logan screamed. But it was too late. The pod opened into an X-shape, and impacted logan solidly in the torso. He was thrown six feet and sprawled against the opposite wall. He was motionless as I gaped in utter horror.  
  
"Oh my god..." I said flatly. "You... shot him." Logan stirred slightly.  
  
"Ugh..." sat up and shook his head. "That... was... AWESOME!" he yelled, throwing up his hands and grinning. I raised my eyebrow and blinked.  
  
"I was... like... flying... and then... I landed... and it was... all... WOAH!" he babbled excitedly, before running up to Millie.  
  
"Do it again! Do it again! Pleeeeeeease?" he pleaded, hoping for another ballistic joyride. No such luck.  
  
"Nah, I wouldn't want you to get hurt." She set the Stun Gun down and turned to me.   
  
"I told you it would be fun! Wanna try?" I quickly shook my head and looked down at my clipboard. I winced as I came to the last question. This question was almost always saved for last, and with good reason.  
  
"So... Millie, rumor has it that you and Nicholas D. Wolfwood... uh... have a... thing." I danced pathetically around the question, trying to get it out slowly.  
  
"A 'thing?' What kind of thing?"  
  
"You know. A... thing... for each other."  
  
"You mean like a present?"  
  
"No. I mean... like... a relationship."  
  
"Well, we know each other, if that's what you mean."  
  
"No, I mean... like... a DEEPER relationship."  
  
"Deeper? What do you mean?"   
  
Before I could make another unsuccessful attempt to make her understand, Logan interrupted.  
  
"He means that you and Wolfwood are in looooooooooove." He dragged out the word, either to make a point or just to piss me off.   
  
I winced and expected Wolfwood to stumble out of the closet wearing a leopard-skin bikini or something to that disturbing effect. Instead, Millie started blushing violently and giggling giddily. It was the kind of giggle that a girl might make while discussing a relationship with a friend.   
  
"Uh... Millie?" I tried to snap her out of her giggle-fit, but she was too far-gone.   
  
"Millie?" Again, only giggling.  
  
"Alright then, we're gonna leave. Thanks for your help." I waved as I closed the door behind myself. Walking down the hall, Logan kept babbling about the Stun Gun.  
  
"It was so cool! You should try it! Its like a whole rollercoaster in only three seconds!" I just stared disinterestedly at him.   
  
He kept babbling until I interrupted him by announcing our next interview.  
  
"Gah! Shut up already! Okay, next up: E.G. Mine."  
  
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Well, at least Logan's not so edgy anymore.  
  
(Logan babbles in the distance)  
  
DEFINITELY not edgy. }:-/  
  
Stay tuned! ^_^ 


	7. EG Mine's Interview

Yes, I have returned! I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long. School's started up and I've been utterly overwhelmed and... well... yeah. Please forgive me. I'll try to update more often, but I can't promise anything.  
  
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Trigun: Way Too Far Behind the Scenes  
  
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I had been unable to find Logan all morning. Both he and his video equipment were conspicuously absent in the hotel room, so I had gone to the studio alone in hopes that I might find him there. Sadly, I did.  
  
He was camped out, in a way, in the hall lined with dressing rooms. And take a wild guess which dressing room he was smack dab in front of... yeah, you got it. Dominique's. I ran into, or more accurately, stumbled over him in my aimless early-morning wandering of the compound. I had mistaken him for a bundle of... something. He was curled up into a bizarre little ball, wrapped in a blanket and a sleeping bag. I tripped over his outstretched foot and nearly fell over. The nudging was enough to wake him. He stirred, making a few sleepy grunting noises, and the mass of blankets started to undulate into what I could only assume was a sitting position. The sleeping bag slid down over his head and I gaped in confusion and a certain degree of horror to see that it was indeed Logan. He tousled his hair and yawned before opening his eyes and looking up at me.  
  
"Ah, you're finally here," he said with what I interpreted as deranged cheerfulness.  
  
"'Finally?'" I asked, glancing at my watch. "It's only 6:00 AM! How long have you been here?"  
  
"Oh... I dunno. 2:00, 3:00 AM," he replied, as if it were some small affair. I glanced at the door opposite the wall he was slumped against, and couldn't help but wonder.  
  
"Why are you in front of Dominique's room?" I questioned. His face hardened into an empty stare.  
  
"No reason," he said abruptly, after a short pause. His eyes darted up and down the hall, and he suddenly perked up like some kind of hysterical puppy.   
  
"She's here!" he yipped excitedly. "Here she comes!" I looked down the hall and didn't see a thing. I couldn't help but think that Logan was finally giving into madness.  
  
Then Dominique appeared about six inches from my face... again.  
  
I leaped about four feet into the air... backwards... while spinning like a corkscrew. It wasn't so much the fall that hurt as it was the sudden stop at the end, coupled with the nasty rugburn.  
  
"Will you stop doing that?!" I snapped. Dominique only scoffed at me before going into her dressing room.  
  
"Did you see that?!" Logan started babbling. "She smiled! She smiled at me! SHE LIKES ME!" He hopped to his feet and started doing what could only be called an utterly insane dance, hopping around in a circle, still wrapped in his sleeping bag. I stopped him by grabbing him by the ankles and yanking, hard. There was a loud thud and some giddy giggling as he toppled onto his back.   
  
"You are a very strange little man," I told him as I dragged him by his feet down the hall. He wouldn't hear any of it. He just grinned like a nut and went on and on about how much Dominique was obviously in love with him because she flashed a smile at him. I somehow resisted the urge to hurt him. After all, I needed a cameraman.  
  
I performed the customary double knock on E.G. Mine's door, and I heard a bit of rumbling that trailed all the way up to the door. It swung open, and at first I didn't see anything. Then I looked down and saw a large, purple, metallic ball with a guy curled up in it.  
  
"Hello," he said from behind a mask over his mouth. I noticed he had a slight accent. He rolled backwards and hopped onto his feet with exceptional agility.  
  
"What's up?" he asked. For a Gung-Ho Gun, he seemed rather welcoming.  
  
"Uh... hi. We're from General Idiocy Publications, and we'd like to interview you."  
  
"Ah, okay." He curled back up into his armor and rolled over to the table on the other side of the room, sprang back into his upright position, and took a seat. I cautiously followed him.   
  
"Alright, shoot," he offered.  
  
"Ah, yes. Uh... what does that armor thingy do?"   
  
"Well, its armor. It protects most of my upper body, and it shoots big spikes."  
  
"Uh... spikes?"   
  
"Yeah, watch." E.G. tugged on a few shimmering silver wires wrapped around his fingers, and spikes leaped out of his armor, turning him into some kind of human mace. I expected Logan would drop the camera and run for it at that moment, but he seemed to be looking in the other direction, gazing longingly at the wall, probably envisioning Dominique there. It was sad in one way, but hilarious in another. I would have told him to focus, but I figured his blissful ignorance was a blessing. At least he was pointing the camera in the right direction.  
  
"Wow... those are... big spikes," I commented, staring at the chromium instruments of ouch.  
  
"Yeah, and they're sharp, too. Watch this!" E.G. tugged sharply on a wire, and a large spike whizzed past my ear and punctured clear through the wall behind me. It kept going all the way to the wall in the next room. There was a loud twinging noise as a foot-long frankfurter was pinned to the wall by the sharpened projectile. A supremely irritated Legato Bluesummers peered through the cleanly cut, six-inch circular hole in his nice dressing room wall, then glanced at the hot dog, dangling on the opposite wall, then back at the hole. He put his face up to the hole, one saffron eye clearly visible, flickering with anger.  
  
"Private... time!" he barked, his eye zeroing in squarely on a nervously chuckling E.G.  
  
"Sorry boss," he apologized, clutching the back of his neck and sweating a bit. Legato grumbled and turned on his heel, striding to the other side of the room, plucking the skewered weiner out of the stucco and sliding it delicately back into its bun.  
  
"Yeah, okay... moving on," I continued. "I've heard that you and Rai Dei the Blade have a bit of a rivalry going."  
  
"Oh yeah... him," E.G. hissed, his voice falling an octave, into a sinister growl. "He's always trying to cut in on my glory. Legato sends me after a bounty, and HE always shows up, waving that stupid sword around. In fact, he's been after my prized spi... AAAGH!" E.G. howled, pointing at a conspicuously empty plaque mounted over the couch. The small brass panel at the bottom was engraved with the words "Diamond-Tipped Spike."   
  
"He stole it!" E.G. ranted, gesturing wildly in a fit of rage. "That bastard stole my diamond-tipped spike! That's the one I always use the for the really prestigious kills! And he STOLE it! I'll kill him... I'LL KILL HIM!" With that, E.G. balled his body into his armor, bared his spikes, and rolled like a bipolar bowling ball through the door, shredding it and tossing fragments of it against the wall opposite the door with such force that a few splinters became wedged in the plaster. He pivoted and barreled off down the hall, screaming all manner of obscenities.  
  
"Er... wait!" I yelled after him, poking my head through what was left of the door, but all that remained of him was a faint, profane echo. With a sigh, I turned on my heel and walked over to Logan, who, despite the whole thing, was still staring longingly into space, muttering "She loves me... she loves me not... she loves me... she loves me not..." and pressing the nightshot button on and off with each rythymic statement. I would later discover that about a third of the interview was filmed in night vision.  
  
"Alright, snap out of it," I demanded. "I guess that means our next interview is... uh..." I scanned the pages of the clipboard and winced. "Millions Knives."   
  
Sound from the room next door carried through the hole in the wall, and I heard the distinct voice of Legato. "Who's a good hot dog? YOU'RE a good hot dog... yes, that's right. Mmm. And so delicious!"  
  
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Yeah, Knives is next. I'm so sure I'm going to regret this later.  
  
Logan in the background: She loves me, she loves me not. She loves me, she loves me not.  
  
Will you cut that out?! }:-O 


End file.
